


Purée

by InkAndAmaranth



Category: Holby City
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, I feel so sorry for anyone just hanging out in the tomatoes tag if that actually exists, It exists so I'm obligated to, So this isn't remotely related to AMtGBIS, but I thought I owed it to y'all to share this., tomatoes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-09
Updated: 2020-07-09
Packaged: 2021-03-05 04:02:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,117
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25058155
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InkAndAmaranth/pseuds/InkAndAmaranth
Summary: Like many wars, this one had been brewing for years but had only truly begun when her beloved son and daughter had committed an act of war. They were calling it Tomatogate. Henrik wasn’t calling it anything because he refused to speak of it. [Married with kids AU]
Relationships: Henrik Hanssen/Roxanna MacMillan
Comments: 6
Kudos: 7





	Purée

Roxanna liked to believe the best in people but even she had to admit that war had broken out in her household. Specifically, war between her husband and their children – or her children, as Henrik had told her yesterday. 

Like many wars, this one had been brewing for years but had only truly begun when her beloved son and daughter had committed an act of war. They were calling it Tomatogate. Henrik wasn’t calling it anything because he refused to speak of it.

* * *

She had woken up on Saturday to find one lone tomato on the landing outside her bedroom. She rubbed her eyes but it was still there. The door to Henrik’s study was open and she could hear him muttering forcefully. 

Picking up the tomato, she stepped into the doorway of the study. Nothing could’ve prepared her for what she found there. Somewhere under a mountain of ripe, fresh tomatoes was the desk. A similar pile had been dislodged when Henrik had pushed the chair back. In fact, if she looked round, the chairs and the coffee table had obviously been covered in the fruit. It was like when they covered the children’s presents up with a sheet on Christmas Eve night.

Henrik almost had his back to the wall, his hands drawn against him and his jaw set firm. She had to swallow a laugh at the sight.

“Henrik?” She put the tomato down on top of another pile of its kin that were crowding the bookshelf and stepped towards him.

“We need to speak to the children, Roxanna. This isn’t…” he grimaced and inched his foot away from a rolling tomato “…acceptable.”

She had called the children, again swallowing her laughter to ‘set a good example’ – in reality, both of them knew whose side she was on because she’d been feeding them information for years. They’d come running upstairs with impish grins on their faces and filed into the study. As they weaved between the piles of fresh tomatoes, their son grabbed one of them and held it at his side as he came to stand in front of their father. 

Henrik regarded them both with grave faces. “I’m not upset, I’m just…disappointed.”

“Are there not enough of them, father?” The young man piped up.

She saw Henrik fighting to keep his expression neutral, but the disgust was still there. “I-”

His words were interrupted by the crunch of the boy sinking his teeth into the fruit and chewing loudly. A heavy moment of silence followed before Henrik spoke again.

“To your rooms, both of you.” He dismissed them with a wave then turned away and lifted a hand to massage his temples.

Her brother had already begun to make his way out but their daughter stood there, blinking. “We’re not little kids!”

Henrik sighed. “Go to your room, before I take away something else.”

She gave an irritated sigh and left from the room. Roxanna watched them disappear down the corridor and listened for the closing – or, in this case, slamming – of their doors. Then she looked over at Henrik, who still had a hand to his head. “Are you sure that wasn’t a little harsh?”

“Was it?” he’d asked. “Just  _ look _ what they’ve done.” He gestured widely at the room.

“Henrik, I’m…” Within seconds of opening her mouth, she knew she wasn’t going to finish that sentence. She dissolved into laughter before she made it to the end, trying her best to hide it behind her hand. “Sorry! Sorry, darling, I just can’t help it.”

Sighing, he navigated the tomato maze and slipped his arms around her. “You’re forgiven, I suppose.” He kissed the top of her head.

“Thank you.” He was taking it well and, for that, she tried to get the giggles under control.

“What are we going to do with them? How did they even  _ get  _ all these tomatoes?” She could feel him shaking his head.

She smirked against his chest – all five hundred tomatoes had been paid for by her card. But Henrik didn’t need to know that. All wars had silent participants, after all.

* * *

She had thought, the next morning, that Henrik had taken it in his stride. Well, as much as you can take something like that in your stride.

That was until she came downstairs to see Henrik placing two bowls of Tomato soup in front of their children, saying, “Enjoy your breakfast.”

All three pairs of eyes looked to her and, rather than be forced to choose sides, she ducked into the kitchen and grabbed a bagel and an apple. She took them up to the study which was miraculously clear of all those tomatoes, something she and Henrik had stayed up half the night doing. One more piece of fruit wouldn’t hurt, especially something as harmless as an apple, not when they’d still be finding red smears for months.

As she settled down in an armchair, Henrik strolled into the study with a satisfied smirk on his face. She shook her head and turned away.

“Roxanna.” He nodded to her as he took a seat across from her.

“And here I was thinking you’d risen above their little games.”

“They filled our study with tomatoes. I couldn’t let such a deed go unpunished now, could I?”

She rolled her eyes. “You do realise they’re going to retaliate, don’t you? And, whatever it is, it’ll be bigger and better than the last one.”

“I can handle it.”

“You’ve changed your tune.” She regarded him with narrowed eyes before shrugging and turning her attention back to her food. “Fine. But I’m blaming you if my house gets wrecked.”

“Oh so it’s your house, is it?”

“It is when I have to live with all  _ this  _ over a fruit. Do you know how hard that is to explain to their friends’ parents?”

She could see him trying to fight down a smile of his own at the memory of her having to explain ‘the tomato rule’ while he was ‘busy’ in the kitchen.

Work couldn’t come soon enough.

* * *

She should’ve known better than to think work was safe.

She’d been perfectly happy managing her patients until her daughter’s name popped up on her phone. Naturally, she’d been worried and ducked into the staff room to take the call, her mind conjuring up images of fight started or limbs broken. 

She answered the call without giving her a chance to speak. “What happened? Is everything alright?”

“Everything’s fine, mother. For us, anyway.” Dread twisted her stomach at the gleeful undertone in her daughter’s voice.

“What? Then why are you calling me during school hours?”

“We just wanted to warn you that the tomatoes are coming, that’s all.”

That  _ word _ . She’d heard it so much since Saturday that it was beginning to sound made up. And here she was, using it in that ominous and bizarre way. “Wait, what do you mean?”

The phone beeped and she pulled it away from her ear – she’d hung up. And the tomatoes were coming.

Still completely baffled, she tucked the phone back into her pocket and emerged back onto the ward again.

Paperwork seemed mind-numbing enough to distract her from the impending approach of tomatoes in whatever form (she’d stopped trying to guess what heights they’d go to next). When she reached their office, Henrik was already sat typing at his desk.

Hopefully, there were no tomatoes in the office.

“Roxanna.” He smiled at her as she shut the door behind her.

“Henrik.” Her smile reflected his, and she walked over to lean across the desk and press a kiss to his cheek.

She considered, for a second, informing him of the forthcoming tomatoes but then she realised how terribly incriminating that would be. And she did  _ not  _ want to be on the receiving end of Henrik’s pranks.

Before sitting down at her own desk, she checked the seat. Henrik frowned at her and she scrambled for a good excuse. “It’s just a…stain, that’s all.”

He rolled his eyes and she let out a quiet breath. “Honestly, if I didn’t cook, I don’t know what you’d do. They’d find you in a takeaway surviving off 12” margheritas.”

“Ah, rude.” She sat down. “I  _ can  _ cook. Quite well, actually, and you know it. I just prefer the taste of cheese and t-tomatoes.”

Their eyes met as she stumbled over that last word, both pulled back into the bizarre situation at home.

After a few moments, she said, “I’ve got paperwork to do.”

“And I have emails to answer.”

“Perfect.”

“Well, that’s odd.” Henrik’s brow creased. “I’ve got an email from...”

“From? Have you opened it?”

“No, just a moment…”

As she lowered her head to return to her paperwork, she heard a tinny squishing sound. Like a tomato splatting against Henrik’s computer speakers.

Her eyes went wide in horror: the tomatoes had arrived. She schooled her expression in a hurry and forced herself to look up at Henrik. “What was that?”

Henrik turned his monitor around so she could see it. “It seems we’ve reached an impasse.”

“Henrik, if you’re thinking what I think you’re thinking…” She took a deep breath. “Don’t. They’re children. Scratch that, they’re  _ our  _ children.”

“Roxa-“ As the sounds intensified, he yanked the wire out of the speakers. “This is serious. I’m calling a family meeting tonight, I can’t tolerate this any longer.”

“Where are you going?”

“Somewhere quiet, where there are no tomatoes.”

* * *

“I can’t believe you!” Roxanna heard as she walked in the front door. “Do you have any idea how  _ embarrassing  _ that is?”

Her shift finished later than Henrik’s and the party had clearly started without her.

“To have someone pick you up from school?” She could hear the pretend ignorance in Henrik’s voice.

“To have them dressed in a goddamn tomato costume!”

“I was under the impression you liked tomatoes, my dear.” She entered the living room in time to see Henrik sit demurely in his armchair and unfold the newspaper.

She waltzed past them into the kitchen and started to make herself dinner. Before she’d even finished gathering the ingredients, the shouting had grown louder. Or perhaps just closer as, moments later, Henrik, their children and the tomato situation all made their way into the kitchen too. 

Before she knew it, some of the innocent tomatoes she’d decided to actually make use of were snatched up by the children. And the tomatoes flew across the kitchen, as if in slow motion, the flimsier ones splattering on Henrik to give him that ‘surgery in your suit’ look and the slightly healthier ones bouncing off of him. 

His eyes narrowed and he bent down to pick up one of the offending red entities. 

“Okay, that’s enough,” she started to say, stepping forward to stop Henrik doing something he’d regret. 

Apparently, she was too late for that.

Wiping tomato seeds off of her eyelids, she glared at each of them in turn. The kids’ faces fell. Henrik froze.

“Get to your rooms. Don’t come out until I call you.”

“And you,” she said, pointing a red finger at her husband, “get to  _ your  _ room.”

“But-” he began, as the children started to retreat.

“Go, or we’re getting a divorce no matter how attractive that face is.”

Their daughter stopped in the doorway and wrinkled her nose. “Ugh, do you mind?”

“That doesn’t sound like going to your room!”

* * *

“I take it I have some apologising to do.” Henrik was sat on the end of their bed as she emerged from the ensuite wrapped in a towel.

“You figured that one out, huh?” She smirked. He still obviously had no idea of her part in the whole thing. “We’ll talk about it properly later.”

He nodded. “May I?” He picks her hair brush up from the dresser as she sits down in front of it. “You have been rather caught in the middle this week, haven’t you?”

“It was funny at first, then the novelty wore off.”

“I better start making it up to you then, hmm?” He brushed through her hair carefully, and she tried hard not to crack a smile. “How about dinner? There’s that Italian you’ve been wanting to try out.”

“It’s a start.”

“Good.” Henrik paused, resting a hand on her shoulder. “Do you actually think my face is attractive?”

She chuckled and stood up, dropping the towel to the floor. “Maybe this will answer your question.” She reached up to frame his face with her hands and drew him in for a kiss. She heard the soft thud as the hair brush hit the carpet.

She’d caused enough fruit based chaos. It was time for an entirely different kind.


End file.
